I feel like a while ago I read a book about a woman who was having a rough time. She was invited to a huge fafafa house and then things go awry.
I think it was based on this book. For this book, I really liked it. I didn’t get into the characters so much that at times I forgot who everyone was, bc there were so many of them. It might just also have been bc of how I’ve been feeling lately and not really wanting to read books.
I did enjoy this book and gave it high marks on Goodreads. You knew that people were going to be dying, but after each one, you wondered what would happen to the next.
Reading becomes a pattern 